


slip softly

by roadsider



Series: sterek week ficlets [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Awesome Laura Hale, Derek pines, First Kiss, M/M, Oblivious Derek, derek hits his head a lot, lacrosse is played, lacrosse player laura, laura meddles, that should be a thing just saying, what else is new amirite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 06:10:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1847329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roadsider/pseuds/roadsider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're crushing hard on the kid, and to my knowledge, you've had all of what, three full conversations?" </p><p>Laura curves an eyebrow at him, tapping her nails against his tray. "And I'm pretty sure most of those were related to that science project you two did last year."</p><p>"Can we not do this here," Derek whines. He lifts his head just enough to peer at Laura. "In fact, can we not do this ever?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	slip softly

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little in love with the idea of Laura Hale being badass at lacrosse, not gonna lie. So I was thinking high school AU and Laura and lacrosse and this happened, idk. Title from [Milo Greene's Cutty Love](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6yjW77GSM5w) because it's maybe my favourite love song ever.

The ball hits the back of Derek's head with a hard _thwack_.  
  
"Ow," Derek complains, turning to see Laura's eyes narrowed at him. "What the fuck was that for?"  
  
"Stop staring at him," Laura says. She somehow manages to scoop up the ball again while pinning Derek with her gaze. It's a skill she's perfected, that penetrating, judgemental look, and Derek is very much not happy about it.  
  
"Staring at who," he says reflexively, feeling heat crawl up the back of his neck.   
  
Laura just smirks, turns on her heel and jogs back onto the pitch.  
  
"I wasn't staring," he insists under his breath, knowing she'll be able to hear him. Sure enough, she snorts and lifts an eyebrow at him across the field, then laughs when Derek scowls at her.  
  
"I hate you," he mumbles under his breath, turning back to where he'd been-- been-- not staring at Stiles, that's for sure.  
   
Derek's watching lacrosse practice for _purely academic reasons_ , of course. He is, after all, in charge of putting together an article on the team for the school paper. Research is essential to writing anything half decent, everyone knows that, so he has totally legitimate reasons for being here.  
  
And for watching the players.   
  
Totally legitimate.  
  
If his gaze happens to land on Stiles fairly frequently… Well, Stiles is one of the few sophomores on the varsity team, so, again. Research. Plus, Stiles is in his grade, he _knows_  Stiles, so it's only natural to tend toward a familiar face, a familiar gait, a familiar physique. 

Not that Derek spends a significant amount of time admiring Stiles' physique.   
  
So maybe he _has_ noticed that Stiles has surprisingly broad shoulders, and really nicely toned legs, and his ass… well. He can't help _noticing_  things, okay?  
  
Derek huffs to himself, pushing his glasses up his nose.

He's not _staring_ , no matter what Laura says.   
  
+  
  
"I am _not._ "  
  
"You _so are_."  
  
"Am not."  
  
"Are too."  
  
"Laura," Derek groans, head thunking down against the hard plastic table. He's gonna bruise. It'll fade, whatever. Where are Erica and Isaac when he needs a buffer between him and his sister? His friends are useless.  
  
"You're crushing hard on the kid, and to my knowledge, you've had all of what, three full conversations?"  
  
She curves an eyebrow at him, tapping her nails against his tray. "And I'm pretty sure most of those were related to that science project you two did last year."  
  
"Can we not do this here," Derek whines. He lifts his head just enough to peer at Laura. "In fact, can we not do this ever?"  
  
" _Tsk_ , little bro, you know me better than that."   
  
And that's exactly what he's afraid of, actually. Derek watches in horror as his sister turns away slightly, scanning the crowd.    
  
"Stilinski!" Laura calls out across the cafeteria, attracting more than a few curious looks.   
  
Derek sinks lower down in his chair.    
  
He's just about to make a run for it when Stiles comes bounding up to the table.  
  
"Hey Hale," Stiles says with a grin, eyes flickering between Derek and Laura. His grin widens. "Or should I say, hey Hales."  
  
"Good game yesterday," Laura nods at him.   
  
"Dude, I should be the one saying that," Stiles says, shaking his head sheepishly. "I only went on for like five minutes."  
  
Laura just shrugs, and smiles in a way that's always looked a little bit terrifying to Derek.  
  
"I'm sure Derek would love to hear about that. So. See ya!"   
  
And then she whirls around, hair flying over her shoulder as she prances across the room to her friends.    
  
Stiles stares after her, a confused tilt to his brows, while Derek tries to reign in his blush. Damn Laura.  
  
After what feels like an eternity, Stiles blinks and shakes his head, turning to Derek with a lopsided smile.  
  
"Your sister's quite something," he says, dropping his tray easily across from Derek.  
   
Derek jerks in his seat, flushing anew.   
  
"Y-yeah," he stammers, shifting his feet so his legs don't accidentally knock into Stiles'.   
  
Stiles hums and digs into his lunch. Derek searches frantically for something to talk about. It had been so _easy_  when they'd had that stupid science project back in September.  
  
"You really were good in the game though," he tries.   
  
"You were at the game?" Stiles asks, eyes lighting up.  
  
"Yeah," Derek says with a smile. He shrugs. "I'm sure they'll let you play more next year, you're really good."  
  
Stiles beams. "Thanks."   
  
They eat in silence for a few moments, but it's not uncomfortable. Derek distantly wonders why this is happening, doesn't Stiles usually eat lunch with Scott and Scott's girlfriend? Not that he's complaining, just, he doesn't really get it. They haven't ever done this before. And while they've never been anything other than friendly to each other, they don't usually talk much, either.  
  
"Dude, you should totally try out next year," Stiles says abruptly. When Derek looks up, Stiles' eyes are doing that sparkly thing they do, and it's distracting.  
  
"I-- I dunno," Derek mumbles, adjusting his glasses. "Lacrosse has always been Laura's thing."  
  
And then he mentally kicks himself for sounding so lame.  
  
"Hey man, that doesn't mean you can't give it a shot," Stiles says with a shrug. "Besides, you can always just join me on the bench, it's not as bad as it sounds."  
  
He winks at Derek conspiratorially, and it's totally a friendly thing, but Derek still flushes right up to his hair. Good god, he really needs to get a handle on that. 

Maybe Derek _should_  try out for lacrosse. He's never played it-- it _had_ always been Laura's thing-- but it could be fun. Plus, he'd never gotten around to finishing that article, maybe he should get some hands-on experience.

"Hey Der, sorry, we got caught up, Harris was--" Erica stops short, tray frozen mid-air as she steps up to the table. She hesitates for a drawn-out second, before shifting to the spot beside Derek and sitting down.  
  
"Harris is a dick," Stiles says around a mouthful of sandwich. Were it not for the way his shoulders have tensed up, Derek would think he's totally comfortable with her arrival.   
  
"He's a fucking asshole," Erica agrees vehemently, and Stiles seems to relax a bit.   
  
Not a minute later, Isaac sits down gingerly next to Stiles, who's started trading stories with Erica. He raises a blond eyebrow at Derek across the table, and Derek groans inwardly; Isaac probably won't let this go easily.   
  
"--and that's how Scotty ended up with three of Harris' pens jammed up his nose, and then he gave us both detention for a month," Stiles is saying, gesturing wildly. "Totally unfair."  
  
Erica laughs, Isaac rolls his eyes, and when Stiles grins at Derek, Derek can't help but grin back.   
  
And somehow, despite Derek's awkward efforts, their knees end up pressed together by the end of lunch.  
  
+  
  
The bathroom door slams open right in front of Derek, and even werewolf reflexes aren't quick enough to duck away. He can hear himself groan, head spinning a little from the impact, eyes smarting at the sting in his nose.  
  
"Shit shit shit," he hears, and embarrassing as it is to admit it even to himself, he'd recognize that voice anywhere. "Derek?"  
  
Derek blinks tears from his eyes and tries to force his grimace into a smile. "Hey, Stiles."  
  
"Dude!" Stiles' face swims into focus, expression concerned and also… excited, maybe? The pain is fading already, but Derek's still reeling a little. "Are you okay?"  
  
Then Stiles' fingers are skimming Derek's cheekbone, and Derek feels sort of breathless.   
  
Stiles is really, really close, and after not having seen him for three months, it's a little intense. Derek feels his eyes flutter shut as Stiles' scent hits him, warm and bright, and forces them open before he starts doing something creepy.   
  
Only that's even worse, because Stiles' hand is still on Derek's cheek, and his face is distractingly close.  
  
"Where'd your glasses go?" Stiles asks after what feels like an eternity, eyes a little wide.  
  
"Oh," Derek says, hands fluttering up to his face automatically, brushing Stiles' fingers accidentally before he steps back. Stiles' hand drops. "Yeah, um, I started wearing contacts?"  
  
He hadn't. He was what his mom lovingly called a late bloomer, and all his werewolf advantages, while present earlier on, had become fully enhanced during the summer months. That, apparently, included fixing his myopia, though Derek wasn't exactly sure how that worked. It had probably been explained to him in one of those lessons that he never really paid attention to. ( _Lycanthropy 101_ , Laura would say with a snort and an eye roll; _Your Heritage_ , their stern-faced Aunt Vivienne would scold.)  
  
"Huh," Stiles says, blinking at Derek twice before grinning. "Hey, so, are you gonna try out for lacrosse?"  
  
 _Yes_ , Derek thinks.  
  
"Maybe," he says.  
  
He'd gotten Laura to train with him over the summer, a feat which was accomplished by bribes and an embarrassing amount of begging.   
  
"You should," Stiles tells him, looking impossibly earnest. "Dude, come on, we need at least one Hale on the team, and with Laura gone, it's up to you."  
  
"You just want me for the prestige of my name, huh?" Derek teases.  
  
Stiles laughs. "Yeah right."  
  
They stand there for a moment, grinning at each other, and then the bell rings, startling them both.  
  
"I guess we should get to class," Derek says, hoping that his ears aren't red.  
  
"I guess," Stiles agrees, and claps him on the shoulder as Derek heads off with an awkward little wave.  
  
He's halfway down the hall when he hears his name being called.  
  
"Derek!" Stiles shouts again. "When do you have lunch?"  
  
"Uh," Derek says, fumbling with his schedule as he turns back. "Fifth period?"  
  
A wide grin breaks out on Stiles' face, bright even across the hall. "See you there, dude."  
  
He does.  
  
And somehow, Derek, Isaac, and Erica (and Erica's new boyfriend Boyd) end up sitting with Stiles' little group every lunch that week, and then the week after that.  
  
(He tells Laura on video chat that weekend, and she laughs and laughs and laughs, but Derek's sure he's not imagining the fond look she throws him.)  
  
+  
  
Derek's sprinting up the field, speed carefully controlled to _just_  outpace the other team's defence, and then he pauses, focused, pulls back to let the ball fly-- and then a blow glances off his helmet and he staggers sideways just as he lets it go.  
  
He doesn't even have the chance to look back before he's being shoved out of the way, and damn this asshole, Derek was just about to score his first goal. He hears Stiles' indignant cry, but he's too far away to acknowledge it without making it seem suspicious.   
  
Instead, he shoves back, then takes off to chase the ball again.  
  
He scores three times before the game ends.  
  
Stiles jogs up to him the end of the game with a wide grin on his face. "Dude!"  
  
Derek grins back. "Great game, yeah?"  
  
"Yeah!" Stiles enthuses, brushing a hand over his head as he takes his helmet off. His smile turns tempered with concern. "You okay, though? That asshole hit you pretty hard back there."  
  
Derek takes off his own helmet and shakes out his hair. "Yeah, I'm fine. Barely felt it."  
  
Stiles rolls his eyes as his grin brightens. " _Of course_ you barely felt it."  
  
He swings an arm over Derek's shoulders, and Derek's suddenly hit with the smell of grass and sweat andStiles and he really, really hopes that the deep breaths he's taking will be written off to post-game windedness.  
  
"Dude, you were just so great out there," Stiles is saying as they head to the showers, stripping off layer after layer of gear.   
  
Derek is silent, trying not to stare as Stiles pulls his shirt over his head, but it goes unnoticed as Stiles rambles on, completely ignoring the bustle of their teammates around them.  
  
"I mean, seriously, that second time you scored? Was so fucking awesome, I think Finstock came in his pants. Only, ew, not an image I'd like to think of ever again, but you get what I mean. It was like it happened in slow motion, that's how amazing it was."  
  
He seems to pause for a breath, shamelessly naked now, towel in hand. Derek congratulates himself on keeping his eyes mostly above the waist.  
  
"But, dude, honestly. You were incredible," Stiles says after a beat, eyes shining.   
  
"Thanks," Derek says with a smile, feeling his cheeks heat up, and Stiles laughs.  
  
"I thought you said you were completely inexperienced, yet here we are!"  
  
He gestures broadly, and okay, Derek's really trying here; he's sure Stiles didn't mean it like _that_ , he's sure, it's just, he can't seem to stop that deepening blush from spreading up his neck. Derek just doesn't even know what to say to that.  
  
And then Stiles starts going a little red in the ears, too, pink tinting his cheeks.  
  
"I mean," he says, and then he laughs, though there's a nervous edge to it. "I just mean, you're really good at lacrosse, dude, it must like, run in the family or something. Like the whole being ridiculously gorgeous thing. You're probably all really good at everything, aren't you. Like, what even. Damn Hale genes."  
  
"What?" Derek croaks, because surely he didn't hear that right.  
  
The smell of embarrassment bursts between them and Stiles' eyes go wide, as if wondering if he really just said that. But he totally did, and did Stiles just sort of imply he thought Derek was _ridiculously gorgeous_? Derek doesn't really know what to do with that.  
  
"Uh. I'll just," Stiles stammers, cheeks blazing. "I'll just shower."  
  
He shimmies into the shower, leaving Derek there half-dressed with his jersey clutched in his hand.   
  
Then there's an embarrassed-sounding groan, the sound of Stiles' head repeatedly hitting tile.  
  
Derek blinks at nothing, until a shove from Greenberg spurs him to action.   
  
He dresses quickly and leaves in a daze.  
  
+  
  
Stiles avoids Derek for all of two days, his absence conspicuous at their lunch table.   
  
Derek's not even sure what happened. He's got no idea how to interpret what happened after that first game. Laura'd been no help when he'd asked her, she'd just rolled her eyes and said something rude, and the weird, quasi-hostile looks Scott keeps throwing him aren't very informative either.  
  
At the next practice, however, Stiles quickly relaxes back to his normal self, so Derek decides to forget about all of it.  
  
A week or so later, he invites Stiles over to hang out at his place, and Stiles hesitates for a moment before grinning and saying _of course, dude, let's order pizza_.   
  
And suddenly they're hanging out constantly, usually with Stiles coming 'round after school, claiming abandonment by Scott because of certain girlfriend-related issues (and, Stiles bemoans, a budding bromance between Scott and Isaac). Talia dotes on him, and the twins love him as well, probably because Stiles doesn't mind them using him as a human jungle gym and has the energy to chase them around the house.  
  
It's surprisingly easy, Derek finds, to fit so much of Stiles in his life. His crush on Stiles is also fairly manageable, even spending so much time together. Derek's not too bothered about doing anything about it, because every time something crosses his mind, he remembers that time in the locker room and how there was _something_  there and how strong the scent of embarrassment was, pouring off of Stiles.  
  
So, Stiles is clearly uncomfortable with Derek's potential feelings, which is… okay. It is.  
  
Though not so much when Derek's mom starts hinting at something going on between him and Stiles. As it turns out, that's something that's guaranteed to make Stiles run straight home.

The first time it had happened, Stiles had only blushed, reeking of embarrassment, and muttered excuses about homework to finish.  
  
The second time, he and Derek had been curled up on the couch watching a movie. It had been sort of cold, and instead of finding a blanket, they decided to share body heat, Stiles' back against Derek's chest, legs tangled together. It had been nice-- right up until Talia had come in, made some very Laura-esque comments, and caused Stiles to literally sprint out the door with barely a goodbye.  
  
After the third time that Derek is left stunned, the scent of Stiles' embarrassment lingering in the air much longer than the echoes of the Jeep's fading rumble, he turns to his mom with a frown.  
  
"Can you not do that?"  
  
"Do what?" his mom asks innocently, and Derek scowls at her. She sighs. "I wouldn't worry about it, darling."  
  
"Worry about it?" Derek groans. "He's one of my best friends and you're making everything awkward."  
  
Talia hums and walks into the kitchen. Derek follows, throws himself onto a chair and lets his forehead rest against the countertop.  
  
"Please," he tries, mumbling against the marble. "It-- my-- I-- it makes him uncomfortable, mom, I don't want him to stop coming around."  
  
"Honey," Talia starts, but Derek interrupts.  
  
"That's why he keeps leaving, because he's uncomfortable with me and I--"  
  
Derek huffs, cheek against the cool marble.  
  
"I don't think he's uncomfortable with you," his mom says.   
  
"Yeah, pretty sure he is. That's why he keeps leaving, because of how I--" he cuts himself off, scowling at the chair beside him.  
  
Talia comes up behind him, cards her fingers through his hair.  
  
"Oh, darling," she says gently, and drops a kiss on his head.  
  
The next day, when Stiles cites Scott reasons and says he can't make it after school, Derek tries not to feel disappointed.   
  
He crawls onto his couch at six p.m. in his softest t-shirt and a pair of faded, ratty sweats, planning to marathon some shitty show to ease his mood.  
  
Halfway through the fifth episode, there's a knock on the door.  
  
Derek frowns, hearing his mom and dad puttering around upstairs, probably putting the twins to bed. With a sigh, he puts his laptop down and gets up.  
  
His frown deepens when he gets to the door, realizing he recognizes the heartbeat.  
  
"Stiles?" he asks as he pulls the door open, and sure enough.   
  
"Hey," Stiles says, not quite meeting his eyes. "Sorry to bother."  
  
"You're never a bother," Derek says, confused. He sees Stiles swallow, and he doesn't need heightened senses to feel the nerves rolling off of him. "You okay?"  
  
"Yeah, I just needed to borrow--" Stiles starts, eyes flickering up to Derek's. His gaze trickles downwards, catching at Derek's neck where his shirt's collar is stretched beyond recognition.  
  
"Yeah?" Derek prompts, tugs at his shirt, feeling self conscious all of a sudden.  
  
"I was just wondering if you had any-- if I could borrow-- if," Stiles says, licks his lips, then says, _fuck it_ , and lunges at Derek.  
  
Derek rears back, caught off guard, and Stiles' lips land somewhere on his jaw, soft mouth pressing at the skin. Derek's hand comes up on instinct to grab Stiles' shoulder, to steady him, but instead Stiles pulls away and takes one huge step back.  
  
"Fuck," he says, and his eyes are wide and terrified, heart rate through the roof. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."  
  
Stiles stumbles off the porch and before Derek can recover, the Jeep starts up and then disappears down the driveway.  
  
+  
  
Fifteen minutes later Derek is still on the porch, sitting on the stairs with his head against the railing.  
  
His mom had come outside just moments after Stiles ran off, to find Derek hitting his forehead repeatedly against the wood.  
  
She'd _tsk_ ed at him softly, kissed his hair, and told him to come inside if he wanted to talk about the situation.  
  
He doesn't want to talk about it. At all.  
  
Come to think of it, he doesn't even know what there is to talk about.  
  
So, Stiles had kissed him, or at least tried to.   
  
That's basically where the _List Of Things Derek Knows About The Situation_ starts and ends. He wouldn't even know where to begin talking about anything.  
  
He sighs softly, trying to anchor himself in his confusion.  
  
He knows he likes Stiles. As more than friends, that had been obvious to him pretty much from the moment they were assigned lab partners in freshman year, and Stiles had turned to him with a grin and those bright, bright eyes and even brighter smile.   
  
He also knows he'd never have the guts to make any sort of move. Especially not now that they were friends.  
  
But… was that what Stiles had just done?  
  
Because if one disregarded the confusion and the nerves and the _terror_  in Stiles' eyes… then what it came down to was that Stiles had tried to kiss Derek.   
  
Derek feels something soft and warm curl in his stomach.   
  
Suddenly, he hears the familiar rumble of the Jeep turning onto the road leading to his house.  
  
Without a second thought, he's sprinting down the driveway, ignoring the way the gravel cuts up his feet; they'll heal right back up, anyway.  
  
He meets the Jeep halfway down the road, watches as it jerks to a stop. He's beside the driver's side door in a flash, but Stiles is already getting out, arms held up as if in surrender.  
  
"Just, before you say anything," Stiles is saying, a little too loud. "I just want to get something out, okay? Just let me finish. I went home and I turned right back around because I can't just--"  
  
Stiles cuts himself off with an awkward little laugh, scrubbing a hand over his head. He takes a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say, Derek, is I really like you, and I don't want that to make things weird, I really don't, because I'm happy to have you however, even if it's just as a friend, but I'm really sorry if-- I just hope you're--  I'm sorry if I made this weird and--"  
  
Stiles doesn't get to finish what he wanted to say, after all, because Derek's stomping over to him. Stiles flinches a little, like he's afraid of getting punched or soemthing, and Derek frowns at that before reaching out to oh-so-gently cradle Stiles' head between his hands.  
  
"It's not weird," is all he says, and then he's kissing him, soft and forgiving and warm, and Stiles seems to go boneless for a second before surging forward and then it's all heat and teeth and hands sliding into hair.  
  
Derek pulls back after a while and tilts their foreheads together, smiles against Stiles' lips and just breathes for a moment.  
  
And then he kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him again.  
  
(When Laura hears about it, she laughs and laughs and says she was _so right, you loser_ , and thank _her_  for knocking some sense into them both.)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! :)  
> ([lms if you think lacrosse player laura should definitely be a thing](http://pockethale.tumblr.com) i need to talk to people about this it's very important.)


End file.
